Violet eyes meet mine, the same eyes I found on the playground all those years ago.
“I trust you will remain loyal to me as I have to you all these years.”
It’s an unspoken question, a silent ask for reassurance. A deal that was struck between two children during recess, a favour in exchange for a favour.
“Have I ever let you down before?”
Marlin smiles faintly, “Not yet.”
Christopher watches our interaction solemnly, his dark eyes tracking every movement between us.
“You don’t have to come with me.” I say it softly, wishing I couldn’t feel the pinch in my chest, “Pass the supplies and I can finish this myself.”
“And miss out on a score of a lifetime?”
He gives me a cocky, reckless grin that almost takes away the fear glittering in his eyes.
“Don’t think so, darling. We’re going to see this through.”
Relief and something much stronger flows through my body as I look at the man who surpassed all my expectations.
A man who started as just a man.
Until he became my partner.
“If you’re both going, I suggest getting a move on.” Lifting his brows, Marlin gives us a pointed look, “Our distraction is dwindling as we speak.”
“Make sure Evie-
“Doesn’t succeed in killing himself.” He cuts him off, looking at his watch again, “The Witch of Wolf Hollow has been on suicide watch for the last three years. There may not be much I can do.”
Christopher sets his jaw, “He’s got something to live for.”
“So you say.” Catching his glare, Marlin sighs, “But I shall see what I can do. Now, do you need a hand or not?”
I hold back a smile as grumbles flow out of the thief’s mouth.
Linking his hands together, Marlin makes a basket for me to step into. He lifts me up with ease, waiting patiently as I shimmy through the boards, prying a couple nails out of the ceiling to make room for Christopher.
“Watch the suit.”
“Fuck your suit.”
More swears and fumbling occurs until finally shaggy hair appears at the entrance. Christopher's eyes are pinched shut as he edges himself forward, bumping his head on the surface of the air duct and swearing again.
I can see the sweat beading along his skin, the panicked pulse breaking through the soft jut of his neck.
“Focus on me, Devil.”
His breathing is ragged as we inch forward, crawling along our bellies as the ventilation shaft leads us deeper into the manor.
Just a little farther.
Chapter 53
CHRISTOPHER
This is the ninth circle of hell.
